Where to, then, sir?
by ShirleyAnn66
Summary: Four Ways Hardy Could Have Gone and the One Way He Did Each choice leads to a different path.


Warnings: Major character death. Brief violence and a bloody nose. Possibly too sweet; please don't blame me if your teeth rot.

Hardy/Miller - if that isn't your thing, please leave now. :)

One

 _"_ _Where to, then, sir?"_

He goes to the train station and doesn't look back.

He moves to Sandbrook and hovers on the periphery of his daughter's life but can't seem to find a way in. She never finds out the truth about her mother, and while he regains the respect of the community, he's never fully welcomed back into it.

He never works in law enforcement again and sees Miller only once: at the sentencing hearing for the Sandbrook Three, as the media dubs them.

She looks uncomfortable when she sees him, and answers his awkward attempts at conversation with monosyllables, eyes that slide away from his, and uncomfortable smiles. She won't quite look at him as she shakes his hand and walks away.

He watches her go and wonders 'what if'.

He can't shake the deep sense of loss he feels at the end of the Sandbrook case, and he never quite reconnects with Daisy the way he hopes. They seldom talk or send messages after she moves to the United States and marries a man she meets there. He watches his grandchildren grow through the pictures she dutifully sends each Christmas. He never meets them in person. His pension doesn't stretch to trans-Atlantic flights and Daisy never invites him anyway, and always ignores the subject whenever he tentatively mentions it.

When the time comes, he doesn't so much die as fade away.

He's gone three weeks before anyone notices.

/*/*/*/*/

Two

 _"_ _Where to, then, sir?"_

He goes to the train station and doesn't look back.

He returns to Sandbrook and reclaims his life: he rejoins the force, has a frank talk with Daisy without telling her about her mother, and has something similar with Tess that clears the air between them for the first time in years.

There's a fire in him again, one tempered by loss and the agony of two heartbreaking cases, but the last two years have also taught him he's stronger than he thought. _Better_. He's no longer a failure in his own eyes.

He sees Miller only once, at the sentencing hearing for the Sandbrook Three, as the media dubs them. They sit together without speaking and later, they have a short chat, and despite her discomfort, he presses for more than monosyllabic answers. She slowly relaxes as they share where they're living, where they're working, and in Miller's case, who she's seeing. She makes fun of his tightly buttoned collar and precisely centred tie, his shaved face, and slicked back hair, and he just rolls his eyes. She shakes his hand and smiles before she leaves, and she doesn't look back.

He watches her go and knows he'll always think of her as the one who got away.

He and Tess gradually drift back together and they're happy enough. He works hard to maintain his trust in her and to make sure she never realizes he can't shake the feeling he settled for something familiar rather than strived for something _more_.

Daisy marries a decent bloke from London and brings the grandchildren round regularly so he can spoil them, and he's...content.

When he dies, he's surrounded by his family and weighed down by disappointment.

/*/*/*/*/

Three

 _"_ _Where to, then, sir?"_

He goes to the train station and doesn't look back.

He returns to Sandbrook and has a frank talk with Daisy without telling her about her mother, and has something similar with Tess that clears the air between them for the first time in years.

He rejoins the force, filled with fire and righteous indignation and a desire to help those who can't help themselves. He remembers why he became a cop in the first place, and attacks his new cases with the same tenacity and devotion he'd once used to investigate Pippa's death, and Danny's.

He sees Miller for the first time at the sentencing hearing for the Sandbrook Three, as the media dubs them. After a moment of awkward silence and Miller responding to his questions with monosyllables, he continues to press her until she relaxes enough to tease him about his shaved face and slicked back hair, his precisely pressed suit and perfectly centred tie, and calls him 'posh'. He rolls his eyes and asks if she's still terrorizing the poor sods on the back roads of Devon. Their bickering makes it feel like they'd never been apart.

They have tea afterwards, confirm phone numbers, and she turns and waves as she leaves. She's already almost engaged to somebody, and he hopes she'll be happy, even as he wonders what might have been.

They exchange texts every now and then, and bump into each other at conventions and once on the streets of London, of all places. She invites him to her wedding and he invites her to his to a lovely young woman he meets in a tea shop and who seems to love him, grumpiness and all.

They have a couple of kids and Miller has one more, and he's happy. His wife loves him deeply and he loves her, and if there's a niggling sense of regret, well, no one, least of all his family, ever needs to know.

He dies, surrounded by family and friends. He feels peaceful as he closes his eyes although he still has lingering regrets.

/*/*/*/*/

Four

 _"_ _Where to, then, sir?"_

He goes to the train station and doesn't look back.

He goes to Sandbrook and rejoins the force. He and Tess and Daisy come to an uneasy truce and he hopes Daisy will eventually learn to fully forgive him for the last few years, but so long as she's happy, he's happy.

He texts Miller about a month after he leaves, tells her where he is and asks how she's doing. He doesn't expect a response and is surprised when she texts him a few days later: still chasing speeders in Devon, still struggling with Tom, still trying to get used to their new normal.

He makes a point of texting her about once a fortnight and on rare occasions they even call each other. The calls are short but they always make him smile.

They arrange to meet outside the courthouse for the sentencing hearing of the Sandbrook Three, as the media dubs them. They go for dinner later, where she teases him about his clean-shaven face, precisely pressed suit and slicked back hair, and he asks where her bright orange jacket is; he almost didn't recognize her without it.

Their friendship grows and there's a second when it teeters towards something more but he shies away. The moment passes, never to return, but they remain best friends, their families visiting each other often. He's a groomsman at her wedding and she's a bridesmaid at his, and their children call each other 'cousin' and act more like siblings.

If sometimes he looks at her and wonders what might have been, no one ever knows and if sometimes when he looks at his wife he feels vaguely guilty, well, no ever knows that, either.

When the time comes, she's beside his bed, holding his wife's hand. He's satisfied, and slips away with only one regret.

/*/*/*/*/

The One Way He Did

 _"_ _Where to, then, sir?"_

He goes to the train station and doesn't look back.

He goes first to Sandbrook then finds a job in a town half an hour away. It has a high crime rate, and he's kept busy, too busy, really, to think much, but not so busy he can't see Daisy regularly. He drives his new team hard, and they hate him for it, but when they see he's only motivated by justice for the victims, they grow to respect him. When they see him go to the wall to protect those he sees as deserving his protection, they develop a deep core of loyalty that he's only vaguely aware of.

He texts Miller to let her know where he ended up, and to his surprise, she texts back. She's still chasing speeders in Devon, still struggling with Tom, still trying to adjust to their new normal.

He makes a point of texting her once a fortnight, and he calls when he learns the date for the sentencing hearing of the Sandbrook Three, as the media dubs them. He has to work in the morning but tells her to save him a seat in the courtroom if he's late.

On the morning of the hearing, he gets ready for work and scowls at his reflection. He's still scruffy, still dishevelled most of the time, and still can't bring himself to really give a shit because he's working and there's a fire in him again, a dedication and focus he'd lost after the humiliation of Sandbrook and his deteriorating health. But he is going to the courthouse and he's seeing Miller again, and he thinks about shaving and slicking back his hair but settles for putting on his recently cleaned, precisely pressed suit and making sure his tie is perfectly centred. He hopes she'll be pleased at how well he's doing now because, he realizes with some surprise, while he's still grumpy, still ragged around the edges, still alone, he's no longer lonely, comfortable once again in his own skin, and no longer a failure in his own eyes.

He needn't have bothered with the suit and tie. He catches a case before he steps foot in the station and ends up, with his DS, chasing the bugger down and taking several punches to the face for his pains as they roll in the dirt.

One eye is swelling closed and the blood streaming from his nose is finally slowing when he glances at his watch and curses, loudly and creatively, because he's late and has no time to do anything other than shove more tissues up his nose and hope he'll have time to hit the loo before the hearing starts.

He barely has time to deal with the worst of it and he bursts into the courtroom with wild eyes and heaving chest and hopes Miller's there and actually saved him a seat. She is and she did, and her eyes widen when she gets a good look at him.

She snarks at him as she takes him to her hotel so he can properly wash up and he pays for the take-out to thank her. As they sit in her room, eating greasy chips off the paper, he notices she stops and stares after she makes some sarcastic remark and he laughs-painfully, nose and eye aching-but it's a genuine laugh, his smile wide and open and inviting, his unswollen eye sparkling.

They make arrangements to meet for breakfast the next morning in his town and he shows her around his station. They begin texting more and more often, so gradually he's surprised when he realizes they're sending messages every day. Texts turn to phone calls turn to visits and she goes with him to the river and then the cemetery on the anniversary of Pippa's death, and he drives down to Broadchurch for Danny's.

They're both laughing the first time he kisses her, something he does without thinking, and he's terrified when he lifts his head. She just grins and asks what took him so long.

He eventually moves back to Broadchurch because, he tells her, although he still hates the air and the sand and the never-ending sky, he's become rather fond of the bloody people with their bloody smiling faces. She smacks his shoulder for his troubles.

They never lose their edges but somehow learn to fit them together into something that works for them. They marry on the cliff-tops and love each other's children like their own and shamelessly spoil the grandchildren when they arrive.

When the time comes, she sits beside him and holds his hand and smiles through her tears as he whispers, "Don't fuss."

Her face is the last thing he sees.

He has no regrets.

/*/*/*/*/


End file.
